Jem
by chipmunkwashere
Summary: A devious entity from another world threatens the safety of everyone in the Hoenn region. As if things were not complex enough, Brock has to deal with the fact that his body is slowly transforming into a girl’s...
1. Decision

Disclaimer: I do not own any parts of the Pokémon franchise. All copyrighted materials belong to their appropriate owners. This is a non-profitable story, written purely for entertainment.

**Preview:** A devious entity from another world threatens the safety of everyone in the Hoenn region. As if things were not complex enough, Brock has to deal with the fact that his body is slowly transforming into that of a girl's.

**Author's Notes: **Taking another shot at writing a Pokèmon fanfic. Hate it or love it, but don't be shy with the reviews!

**.: Jem :.**

By Krafty Quill

**Chapter I **

_Decision… _

The morning was dark, having yet seen the emergence of the sun. Most people preferred not to rise before the sun had, but Brock loved to. The early hours were always the most serene. It was also the only time his travelling companions were utterly silent, give or take a snore every minute. Brock would rather have that than endure another pointless argument between the two. As Ash and Misty were sleeping the early hours away, Brock was seated cross-legged on his sleeping bag in a semi-meditative state.

Gentle winds caressed his strained features, like a mother stroking her frightened child, assuring him everything will be all right. The nightmare was over. Brock wondered if his companions understood, or even knew, the trauma they put him through. Probably not, they were young after all, Ash fourteen and Misty a good year older than he was. Looking from the outside in, they appeared to be perfect angels, which they were on rare occasions, Brock would admit. He did not consider them bad kids. They had genuine hearts and were always willing to help their fellowman, and pokémon, in times of need. So what was it about them that troubled Brock every passing day?

There were more ways than one to answer that question. The former gym leader glanced at three scratch marks etched into his forearm. Lucid memories of the events that had taken place the previous night replayed in his mind's eye. He had been returning to the campsite from gathering wood to burn for the night. Ash and Misty were exchanging heated words while Pikachu was attempting to help them reason through the disagreement. Brock paid little attention to the incident, but kept it in the back of his mind, knowing that he may have to step in should the dispute turn physical. He did not know why, but the number of times they would wrestle each other to the ground had increased dramatically in the past days. Maybe it was a puberty thing. Within the following ten minutes, Brock's instincts had been right again. He had to separate them before they ended up seriously hurting each other. During the scuffle, Misty had inadvertently scraped her long fingernails across his forearm. It did hurt, but not as much as the words she spewed when he had asked her for an apology. There was one particular part in her rant that had traumatised him the most -- she had told him the reason no girl would ever like him was that he was not a **real** man.

Of course, she had just had a major run-in with Ash, and she probably had not meant what she said to him, but that did not make him feel any less hurt by it. The words had pierced the very soul of his heart. But, why did such a simple, careless statement hurt him so much? After a sleepless night of prodding into his own persona, the answer hit him with the force of a ton of bricks. It hurt so much because it was true. Pain did not lie.

The answer made perfect sense to him when he reassessed his role in the trio. He prepared the meals, cleaned the pots and utensils when they were done, offered advice when he was asked for it, helped them with their laundry, bathed the pokémon every three days, and often served as the voice of reason during their clashes. It was true. He was more of a mother than a friend, more of a woman than a man. No wonder other women rejected him at every opportunity. Who would ever believe that he was once a strong gym leader? He recalled one instance when he told Nurse Joy he was Pewter City's previous gym leader, and she giggled, believing it was just another one of his playful attempts at impressing her. At the time, he did not think much of it, granted his only objective was to get her number. But now, he felt offended that the thought of him being a gym leader was laughable to others, although deep down, he knew he could not blame them.

Somewhere down the line on his travels with Ash and Misty, he had lost his reputation and his pride. The realisation saddened him. He was thankful to Misty, in respect to the fact that it would have probably taken an even longer time for him to grasp the situation if it were not for her brutal honesty. Brock closed his eyes and bowed his head. As of this moment, his dreams of becoming a renowned pokémon breeder were put on hold. He had to return to Pewter City and become the gym leader once more. It was the only way he could restore confidence within himself. He knew he would not go far on any path without confidence. All that was left was for him to inform his friends of his decision, which he would do later on in the day.

Brock stifled yawned. He must have been up for an hour. The sun peeped above the horizon, lighting up the skies as it gradually rose to its throne. Amongst the three of them, Brock was the sole witness of the beautiful sunrise. The moment felt special to him. It very well may have been the last sunrise he shared with his friends. Naturally, they were still out like fatigued light bulbs, but their presence is what mattered, awake or not. Brock noticed something odd when he looked at Ash's sleeping bag; Pikachu, who had been sleeping beside his trainer's head earlier, had moved from his position.

"Pika!" The bubbly greeting startled Brock, whom jumped at the abruptness. Pikachu had been sitting next to him for at least thirty minutes.

Brock smiled shakily. It was somewhat careless of him to drift too far away from his surroundings whenever he was deep in thought. "Hey, Pikachu. I didn't you see there," admitted Brock, whispering.

"Pika pi pika, pikachu!" The electric-type gave him a thumbs-up, suggesting he was not offended that Brock had briefly forgotten about his existence. Pikachu stared at the aspiring breeder for a second as if trying to figure something out. "Pi, Pika?"

"Huh? Of course, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" That was an odd question of Pikachu to be asking him, assuming he interpreted the rodent pokémon correctly. Like Ash, Brock could make out what Pikachu was communicating eighty percent of the time. Well, actually, more like ninety-nine percent for Ash. Brock looked over to his friends, only half-surprised they were able to sleep through Pikachu's relatively loud speech. "Pikachu, do you want to help me make breakfast today?"

"Pika!" Pikachu accepted the offer enthusiastically.

Brock pressed his finger to his lips. "Try to keep it down. We wouldn't want to wake them up." He jerked his head towards the two bodies. Pikachu covered his mouth immediately, realising his mistake. He nodded in agreement this time. "Good," whispered Brock, smiling. The two of them crept away from the campsite as stealthy as possible.

"Too late," mumbled Misty, alluding to the fact that they had already woken her up. She saw the pair head off into the woods.

ooOOoo

Brock wanted to prepare some eggs and beacon for breakfast. The dish was one of Ash's favourites and more or less neutral for Misty. In order to fry the ingredients, he would need a pan, which he had, butter, which he had, and a stove, which he did not have. Not too many stoves liked to hang around Petalburg Woods unfortunately. The dilemma posed no problem however, as he was accustomed to the alternative, a live fire. Once he and Pikachu gathered enough firewood, they would head back to the campsite where they would make breakfast.

"Pika!?" Pikachu suddenly froze. His sensitive hearing detected footsteps approaching. Brock wanted to ask him if it was a friend or foe, but decided against it, not wanting to disrupt the pokémon's concentration with his voice. Intrigued, Pikachu sniffed the air. "Pika pi!" Brock sighed in relief as he saw Pikachu relax into a sitting position on his hind legs. The electric-type had recognized the stray scent.

Stepping around an oak tree, the slim figure came into view. Brock set down the logs he was holding and approached the girl. Her scruffy appearance worried him. Red bangs fell about her face in a mess, partially hiding a set of puffy eyes fresh from sleep. Parched lips struggled to maintain an unconvincing smile; she must have sensed his concern.

"Good morning, Brock and Pikachu," greeted Misty. Her voice was as cheery as fatigue would allow. Pikachu returned the gesture, enthusiastically as always.

Brock wanted to be happy to see her, but frankly, she looked like she could use another two hours of sleep. "What are you doing up, Misty? Oh, of course. We must've wakened you. I think you should get back to bed."

There was silence for a moment before Misty broke out laughing. "What's wrong with your voice, Brock?" It sounded high-pitched, not extremely high-pitched, but definitely not like the deep, rich tone she was used to.

Now that she mentioned it, Brock acknowledged that he did sound unusual. When did his voice change? As far as he remembered, it was normal when he crawled into his sleeping bag last night. Of course, he did not get much sleep afterwards with everything that was on his mind. Still, that was no reason for his voice to turn shrill, was it?

Pikachu gave him that same look he had given him earlier at the campsite. Now he understood why Pikachu had asked him if he was okay. He must have heard the difference too. Brock's voice had to have changed between the time he went to bed and the time he woke up this morning. That explained the _when_, but what about the _how_ and _why_? "I must be catching a cold or something," said Brock, although he was sure that was not what it was. He had no symptoms of a cold. Nonetheless, that was the story he would go with until he learned more about the circumstances. "Really Misty, you could do with a few more hours of sleep."

Misty yawned into her palm. She wanted to disagree with him, but she knew he was right. Had it been Ash though, she would have probably disagreed with him anyway. "I know. Don't worry about me. I'll head back in a second. But I know I won't be able to sleep until I let you know what I came to tell you." Brock cocked an eyebrow. "I want to apologize for those horrible things I said last night. I didn't mean any of it. It's just, when you pulled Ash and me apart, you asked me to apologize to him, instead of the other way around. That wasn't very fair, considering he was the one who started the stupid fight in the first place!" Just the thought of him made her sapphire eyes flare up. She had to control her anger before she completely ruined her apology attempt. "Anyway, I know you were only trying to help, and there was no way you could've known that. I'm sorry I snapped at you…"

Brock smiled and pulled her into a hug. "I already know you didn't mean any of it." He could feel Misty's shoulders relax as he said that. He closed his eyes. "But you were right."

"Right about what?"

Brock knew he would have to break the news to her eventually. Maybe he should have gotten it over and done with right there and then. He did not want to repeat his decision to leave the trio to Ash though. She would just have to wait until Ash woke up for the announcement. "I'll tell you later. When Ash gets up."

"God knows when that will be," muttered Misty. Thanks to Ash, she would have to live with her curiosity for another three hours probably!

Suddenly, a loud cry tore through the air. Brock frowned, realising it had come from where they had set up camp. Ash was in trouble.

"Pikachu!" In the blink of an eye, Ash's faithful companion sped off to his trainer's aid.

"Slow down, Pikachu!" Misty cautioned, as she and Brock followed behind. "It could be dangerous!"

**OoOOoO**


	2. News

**A/N: **Deviating from the main storyline in this chapter. I should probably mention that this fic is AU to some extent.

**.: Jem :.**

By Krafty Quill

**Chapter II**

_News…_

No parents at home meant no one to enforce unfair rules, no one to pester her about tidying her room, no one to pull out the telephone line when she talked for too long, no one to taunt her about dirty dishes waiting for her in the sink, no one to push her to do her homework, and most of all, no one to forbid her from eating ice cream at any time of the day she wanted to! With all that established, the girl, home alone, dancing on the bounciest sofa in the living room, decided she would have herself a good, few scoops of ice cream for breakfast. May leapt off the abused furniture and raced to the kitchen, her taste buds tingling in anticipation every step of the way.

Moments later, the brunette returned to the living room grinning, equipped with a bowl of chocolate, vanilla and banana delight. She hopped onto the sofa, settled her bare feet on the glass table, turned on the television with the remote control lying conveniently next to her, and picked up the receiver with her free hand. Attuned fingers dialled a familiar sequence of numbers on the telephone. Tilting her head slightly, May stationed the receiver between her left ear and shoulder. While she waited for a response from the other end, she treated herself to a heaped spoon of ice cream.

"Hello," a gruff voice spoke up in a bored fashion.

"Hey, Mr. Phoenix," greeted May, sweetly. "Can I speak to Sonja, please?"

"No," the man responded flatly. "She's grounded."

"For what?"

"For taking her Pachirisu to school. The school doesn't allow pokémon on its grounds without approval before hand. And to make matters even worse, the darned thing electrocuted one of her teachers because he refused to change the grade on her English test from a C to a B!" Mr. Phoenix sighed, annoyance evident in his voice, he was tired of all his daughter's shenanigans.

"Oh," said May, bewildered. "That must've been a truly shocking experience for her teacher."

"We're taking back that monster first thing tomorrow morning. I wouldn't be surprised if nobody wanted a disobedient runt of a pokémon like that. We might just have to toss it back into the wild with all the other ingrates."

The man had wanted to get rid of Sonja's Pachirisu for the longest time, and now that he had an excuse to justify his selfishness, he must have felt victorious at last. May was sad for Sonja, but nothing she could say would change the situation, the man barely listened to his own daughter, let alone another one of her 'stupid friends'. "That's really sad, Mr. Phoenix. When Sonja gets ungrounded, please ask her to give me a call right away! Bye!" She hung up and then picked up the receiver again, dialling the next person's number.

"Hi, May."

The wonders of Caller ID, May thought, licking her spoon clean of residual ice cream. "Hey, Brendan. Did you hear about Sonja?"

"Yeah, she said she didn't even order her Pachirisu to attack the English teacher," explained Brendan, assuming that was the news May was asking him about, which it was. "According to Sonja though, most of the students were happy about it. Apparently, Mr. Glibber needed to lighten up, especially when it came to marking tests."

"Meh, lightening him up is one thing, _lightning_ him up is quite another."

"True," agreed Brendan, chuckling. He could not help but notice that it sounded like May had something in her mouth when she spoke. "Are you eating something?" May moaned a satisfied expression into the phone. "Ice cream?" Brendan guessed and May hummed in agreement again. "This early in the morning? I take it your parents already left then."

"Yep. They're probably boarding the plane as we speak. And they took the little squirt too." Max was just as annoying as he was good company at times. When she called him names, it was not out of spite, usually, she was only reminding herself of all his negative qualities, that way she would miss him less; she hated that feeling of missing someone.

"Cool. So you have the house all to yourself."

"Mhm. For now anyway. My aunt is supposed to come later this afternoon. For some reason, my parents didn't think I could be trusted to take care of the house by myself until they got back. Can you believe that?"

"What!? You mean a perfect little angel like yourself needs supervision?" He said, clearly mocking her.

"Shut up, Brendan," replied May, giggling a little.

The teen laughed. "Where did your parents go again?"

An unexpected news bulletin on TV stole May's attention, interrupting one of her favourite episodes of Tom and Jerry. The camera focused on a female reporter holding a microphone to her lips, her face flushed in sorrow, although she tried to brave a more fearless expression for the sake of broadcasting and all the people watching at home. Night had befallen the location of the shoot, spotlights projected from helicopters roamed about in the background, alongside the classic alternating blue and red lights from police vehicles. May narrowed her eyes at what she was seeing, a mixture of intrigue and tension tightening her muscles. She aimed the remote at the TV and turned the volume up.

"…and of the citizens rescued, none have been able to provide information that can help officers confirm the cause of this devastating destruction and loss of life the entire Lilycove City has suffered in the early hours of this morning. It is assumed that a large meteor crashed into Lilycove just before 2 AM as the residents slept peacefully unaware. Leading astronomers offer no explanation as to why such a large celestial body had not been detected by their stationed satellites and ever-vigilant radars well before it crash-landed on Earth," the reporter went on. "At this point in time, rescue teams and police officers have estimated over seven-hundred thousand deaths as a result of this tragic occurrence -- that's over three quarters of Lilycove's population, ladies and gentlemen! This is officially the largest death poll within the space of an hour the world has ever seen since the Bumbai tsunami washed out half of Mossdeep City in 1684."

The focus shifted to helicopter cameras as the airborne troopers surveyed the frightening amount of damage, returning footage of thousands of crushed buildings, and several tall fires spewing thick, black fumes that stirred in the night's skies, hanging over the far spread ruins that were once Lilycove City. The broadcasting then moved back to the reporter, this time with an anxious elderly fellow standing next to her, his cheeks dirtied and dry where prior tears had trailed down his face.

"Mr. Waniwong, one of very few survivors found alive and conscious, claims to be an eye witness of the exact events that had taken place earlier in Lilycove City." She turned to the survivor, trying her hardest to maintain her composure long enough to conduct a proper interview. "I know this must be really hard for you, sir. I think I speak for people all around the world when I say we are deeply saddened for the loss of your city and its people. If it wouldn't be too much to ask, would you mind sharing your story with us? Did you see the meteor before it struck the--"

"It was no meteor!" The man cut in indignantly, moving his head closer to the microphone. "It was … was … a _beast_. Not a meteor, not even a pokémon! A beast! I know what I saw. Metal head, horn, claws … long, sharp, shiny claws…" He shivered as he brought the memories back to mind.

The reporter did not know how to receive the new information. According to her superiors, a large, fiery meteor had come crashing down on Lilycove City at approximately 1:45 AM. Perhaps the man was experiencing trickery from his brain, to help him cope with the trauma of losing his home, and possibly his family. He was already upset as it was, and the last thing she wanted to do was accuse him of being dishonest, instead of trying to gear the interview to fit her understanding, she allowed him to share what he claimed to have seen with everyone watching national television. "Are you saying this beast was single-handedly responsible for wiping out an entire city? And one as big as Lilycove at that?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in his response time or his voice.

"But how is that possible, sir? What did you see?"

"I saw it talking to someone, a young lad, in his late teens at most. He had a pair of goggles on."

"Did you hear any words that were exchanged between the two?"

Mr. Waniwong shook his head. "I was too far away to hear what was being said. Alls I know is the young boy must've upset this beast somehow. In one mighty leap, it covered more air than even the tallest building in Lilycove by at least five folds." He wiped beads of sweat forming on his brow, hardly able to believe what he was saying himself. "And, and, and that's when it happened. The beast created some sort of … fireball with its hands, but a big one, a huge one, the size of the moon as seen from Earth. Without warning, it hurled this fireball down on us … then there was a huge explosion, and then everything just went blank from there. Next thing I knew, I was waking up with a throbbing headache, and random people pulling large rocks off me."

Reserved, the reporter reconsidered his tale. "A … fireball, sir?"

"Yes. A really big one!" He held his arms in the air, trying to demonstrate the capacity of this thing. "Another thing I saw, before everything went blank, the young lad the beast had been talking to earlier, he disappeared! Right into thin air, right before my very eyes!"

"That's a very fascinating tale, Mr Waniwong." She scratched the back of her head, regretting her decision to let the interview stretch passed its scope. What was she thinking giving this nutcase airtime? Hopefully, her boss was not watching. "Thank you for sharing your story with us."

The man nodded his head and the news cut to another scene showing fire fighters hosing down violent flames.

"Um… hello??? Are you still there?"

May shook her head drowsily, the spoon dropping into the bowl after hanging on the bottom lip of her open mouth throughout the news clip. She had been trying so hard to assess all the information coming her way that she forgot she was even on the phone. "Sorry for phasing out on you like that, Brendan. What were you saying?"

Brendan tried to remember. "Oh, yeah. I was asking you where your parents went."

"Well," said May, looking at the TV screen worriedly. "They were supposed to be going to Lilycove City. But I think the pilot will have a little trouble landing on the runway, you know, seeing as the entire airport has been totally wiped out!"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Brendan sounded concerned.

May sighed. "Turn on your TV. It's all over the news. Lilycove City is no more."

Her parents had left for said city not longer than two hours back, and since a flight from Petalburg to Lilycove took at least four times longer than that, she remained reasonably confident that they were far from the city when disaster struck. Later on, she would attempt to get hold of them just to be sure. A wave of relief and thankfulness raced through her body as she realised a few hours had literally separated her family from possible death. Whether it was a stray meteor like investigators had speculated or the 'beast' the old man had spoke of did not concern her, she was only grateful for her parents and brother's safety. Nonetheless, there had been something unsettling about the man's story, she had found it difficult to accept him as a reliable witness, granted, the ordeal he had gone through must have affected him to some degree, but if he was right, then his story insinuated the culprit was still out there. May would have rather accepted the alternative explanation, given; random meteor strikes were extremely rare in occurrence. At the back of her mind, she knew it would be rash to put all her trust in either theory too soon, instead she would wait for coming press releases and developments.

**OoOOoO**


End file.
